


A Stupid Idea Isn't Always Stupid

by 8ami



Series: Garrett & Cal [7]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Also limited amount of kissing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Bisexual Character, I'm surprised too, M/M, Misunderstandings and Understandings, Pan!Garrett, Pansexual Garrett Laughlin, They should totally do that more, They talk so I'm proud of them, mentions of others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 00:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15521799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ami/pseuds/8ami
Summary: Garrett gets back from visiting his sister and stops by Cal's place so that they can talk since he can't get Bram to write his text messages for him.





	A Stupid Idea Isn't Always Stupid

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the middle of July.
> 
> No beta.
> 
> Enjoy!!  
> Minor Edits 2/1/2019

**Monday, July 10th**

It was a stupid idea a week ago and it’s a stupid idea when I got back into town and it’s definitely a stupid idea now that I’m standing on Cal’s front porch knocking on his door, chest growing tighter with each rap of my knuckles. But well, I’ve had worse ideas - like voluntarily sitting in a car with Spier for four hours.

Yes, I’m still upset that he stole my AUX cable and put on that sad music of his, shut up.

I’m never forgiving Spier, Bram owes me a million favors, and I'm a way better wingman than any of Spier's friends.

That was way worse than now, because that was torture and this just has the opportunity to just freakin' hurt, so yeah that was way worse...that doesn’t sound right. Okay, so that might be backwards. It’s just that this conversation is going to determine if I get to continue to spend time with Cal, which is something I really want. Which I obviously knew I wanted, because why else would I be standing on his porch.

It’s just I didn’t think it would feel like I was waiting for a jury’s verdict. I haven't even seen him yet. 

Thankfully, it’s Cal that opens the door - I hadn’t missed the multiple cars in the driveway suggesting people other than Cal are in his house - and I see the moment he registers it’s me at his doorstep. His eyes widen making it hard not to see the wonderful color of them, he raises his chin up, and presses his lips thin in what’s supposed to be a smile but falls under emotions he’s trying to hide.

“Your parents home?” I ask before he can find something to say. Cal’s attempt to smile turns into a clear frown that falls into his eyes, but he nods to give me an answer. “Then can I talk to you out here?”

He lets a breath out that I know he’s been holding, “Sure.”

I move back so Cal can step outside with me, shutting the door behind him. He takes up post a foot away, in arm's length I notice, from me and hooks his thumbs into his jean pockets waiting on me. He does that a lot. Not the thumbs in jean thing. The waiting on me thing.

And he’s still doing it right now because I can only manage, “uh…” and a sinking stomach.

Cal gives a single sharp breath of disbelief with a shake of his head. “Come on.” He waves me over and I follow him to a pair of worn wicker chairs on the porch. I lean forward, elbows on my knees while he settles back into his own, one leg tucked up underneath him, actively putting distance between us.

I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to say. I was so focused on just getting here that I hadn’t worked out the next steps of the process. I manage to look from my hands, across the floor, up Cal’s form, and finally to his face. When he catches my eyes, Cal gives me another attempt at a smile that bites at my heels, but I’m quick to return it regardless.

I know what I want to do - I want to pull him closer, to grab his free hand, to kiss him even knowing his parents are inside - but I’m also very aware that I shouldn’t do any of those things.

The texts we’ve exchanged since I took Spier with me to visit Bram have been like glancing cars but feels way more like a hit and run. I know what I typed and I know what I meant and those two things sometimes don’t match up. This is definitely one of those times because even I could tell Cal started to put things at a distance.

I clap my hands to get me going, making him jump which I can’t help but smile at while he scowls at me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” I shake my head with a laugh, but continue on, “I just...so, you know Bram has like the best English grade of our year, right?” Who needs a plan on what to say anyways. It means more this way, straight from my head really.

Some of the guarded expression Cal is using to hide most of what I think is hurt is broken up by confusion at those words. “Simon may have mentioned it.” Cal’s words are slower than normal as he regards me, trying to figure out where I'm going with this.

“Once or twice, right?”

Cal hums settling back further into his chair, “more like ten or twenty in only the last month of the semester. I’m looking forward to the grand total for the new year.” The laugh that follows from both of us is easy, but Cal’s laugh ends with a weary breath and it has me paying attention. “Garrett, why are you telling me about Bram’s skills in English?”

“Because I have Bram help me with all of my English papers. I’m so bad with words. Like I really suck and I don’t think what I said came out as I meant for it.” I begin and then stop, trying to figure out if what I’m saying now is coming out like I mean for it to.

“When?”

“Oh, uh, when I was visiting Bram with Spier - while I was out at my sister’s place. I said we weren’t exclusive and wh - ”

“Garrett, stop.” Cal interrupts throwing out a hand, eyes closed as if in pain. I snap my mouth closed and sit up straight. It takes a few beats of my heart where I have to clasps my hands together so that I don’t reach out to him, but he finally opens his eyes, still pinched in his shoulders. “You really don’t need to explain yourself. Because you’re right. What we’re doing - it’s just us having fun. It’s you figuring things out.”

It’s _me_ figuring things out.

I actually feel myself reel back at that. “Woah, woah, that makes it sound like I’m using you - do, do you feel like I am?” I’m really glad I’m sitting down at the moment, because I totally feel like I just got punched in the gut as I try to go over every exchange I’ve had with Cal in my head. It just leaves me dizzy and unsure and fuck, am I terrible person? This was totally not where I thought this conversation was going to go. It wasn't even on the table for me to consider. Was that wrong of me?

“Garrett.” Cal moves to the edge of his seat and leans forward to grab my wrist stalling my waving hands and racing thoughts. When I don’t look at him, he slides his hand down to mine holding the back of my hand. “You have to look at me.”

“I do not,” I respond without thinking, and he has the nerve to laugh at that, dragging my hand over to him so that he can hold onto it with both of his. Finally, I do look at him because if I have made him feel like that in any way, then I should at least have the balls to look at him while he tells me.

He keeps my gaze for a few seconds before speaking, making sure I'm not going to suddenly look away I think. “That is not what I’m saying at all. I am completely on board with this. I swear you aren’t - if you remember, I kissed you first.” While we both had been drinking that night, I definitely remember that _and_ the things that followed.

“So…”

“So, no, you aren’t using me.” He assures me with this half smile which allows me to start breathing again because he means it. I nod, just nod and keep nodding until I’m convinced that’s all I can do.

The relief is exhilarating, but it leaves me light headed. I’m blaming the fact that I went from wanting to explain things to freaking the fuck out to not real fast. I squeeze his hand, give him a smile trying to refocus. “Good, that’s good.”

“It is.” Cal agrees, “so we’re good.” He takes a deep breath, claps my hand a few time before letting go completely so that he can stand up. I realize he’s heading inside, that the conversation is about to end, and that I need it not to.

So I grab his wrist, “wait. I need to say something, about before.” Cal stops in front of me, looking down past me to the ground before matching my gaze and nodding. He looked a hell of a lot less tense a second ago. “Sorry, I just - I want you to know that, yeah, we aren’t serious and I don’t see that changing,” That hurt to say as much as it looked to hear apparently which I wasn’t expecting. I have to swallow around that feeling to continue, “because well, other than you and Bram no one knows I’m...well, you know, pansexual and I can’t - that’s not changing anytime soon.” My throat has gone dry and it's straining my voice.

I’m trying to come up with more words, to keep explaining until none of it makes sense and we can just toss this whole predicament and start over. But, he doesn’t give me enough time. A sharp nod, a sigh like he’s heard all this before and he’s over it. “I know that. I do and I understand that. This is just supposed to be fun anyways. If something more serious comes along - for either of us, this shouldn’t get in the way of that.”

That doesn’t sound right. No, not the words themselves. I totally agree with them. I don’t want Cal to miss something real and serious, because of me. I don’t want Cal to have to wait on me forever, because I don’t know when - _if_ I’ll ever really get there. Not with my situation at home. The words are right, but how Cal is saying them isn’t. It’s like a mantra, something he’s told himself in order to believe it - all stiff and not like him.

I take his hand as gently as I can, “Yes, that’s right, but you’re missing the point.” Cal’s brow furrows in that way it does that makes me want to brush back his bangs and try to kiss away the wrinkles. He really has no idea what I’m about to say. Probably didn’t even cross his mind. “The point is, it’s not you.” My words are quiet and I’m worried I’m going to have to say them again when Cal just continues to stare at me like I’m some mystery crime book that he’s started reading from the middle. Finally, he lets out this huff of air that sounds like tension melting, like the type of laugh that one gives when they're surprised life managed this.

He squeezes my hand and leans down to kiss my cheek. “Thank you for stopping by, Garrett, I appreciate it.” I can feel Cal’s words against my cheek and I so very, very much want to turn and kiss him. But I don’t, figure there’s time for that later, for next time. I’m like ninety percent sure there’s going to be a next time.

I return the smile he gives me.

“I’ll text you,” Cal tells me as he straightens up and walks towards his front door. His hand slips from mine as he moves away and I get to my feet. I’m about to tell him goodbye, about to start planning on what I’m going to text him later when I look at him. Really look at him, I mean, as he gets to the door. He's really pretty and his shoulders sit more relaxed than not. I don’t want him to go inside and think over the conversation until it doesn’t make sense and build back up in body. I don’t want him to go inside and decide not to text me. I don’t want him to go inside and leave me out here.

“Uh, actually, Cal?”

“Yes?”

“Would you want to see a movie? Today - like now, I mean?” His hand is on the door handle, but he doesn’t open it, so I take a few steps closer to him, “it’s been a long two weeks. I would like to talk to you about them, maybe after the movie.” I’m worried he’s going to say no, say give me a little time, but he gives me a small smile and a shake of his head as if he doesn’t believe me - not that I don’t want to do those things, but like me as an entity which is weird because I definitely exist.

“Let me tell my parents I’m going out.”

**Author's Note:**

> What is this?! I'm so proud of myself for still writing these two. I love them, but I don't always have the motivation to write so this is really exciting for me, to be so engaged still and that's really thanks to all of you who give me kudos and comment. Really it makes a world of difference. So thank you thank you thank you!
> 
> So, this is a fix for them, but it's like one made out of duct tape, so it might hold. Hopefully, though, this kinda show/suggests how they went from text messages to the make out session in the sound booth. If not, well I still have like two months in my timeline before 'Not as Overwhelming..." takes place for me to get them there.


End file.
